


Sickness of the Mind

by AbyssalSage



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, DGHQ event, Insanity Apocalypse, Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Violence, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 23:23:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20236093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbyssalSage/pseuds/AbyssalSage
Summary: “Ushijima. You said to call you when it’s time.”He lifted his head to see one of the community’s doctors looking crestfallen. Killing someone in the group always pushed everyone into the darkest state.





	Sickness of the Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a roleplay group event for the prompt: Apocalypse AU.  
I decided to have some fun and experiment with the idea of madness as a world-ender.
> 
> Many thanks to Book-Nose and Elestical for beta reading <3  
Feedback and criticism is appreciated!
> 
> Enjoy~

It had begun years before it was noticed. It was more subtle then, falling into the category of odd rather than something harmful. People being overly argumentative, having sudden mood shifts, becoming more and more restless, craving physical stimulus.

Ushijima remembered them; the harmless, but odd behaviors. He had observed them in many people ever since he was young. He also remembered how, as he grew, so did the odd behaviors he never understood. When he was in elementary school it was all over the news. Every day there were new stories of fights, murders, vandalism. When he asked his mother about it, she had told him that:

“It comes down to how you choose to live. You can take offense over the smallest of things and grow up hateful or you can be the bigger person and look for rational solutions. However, some people are simply born bad. This is why it’s important for you to stay calm and collected, Wakatoshi. So you don’t grow into a person like them.”

He listened to his mother. He stayed rational and calm. He avoided confrontation whenever possible and difused bad situations as best as he could.

But as the years went by, he realized that she had been wrong.

_________________________________

He wasn’t sure how long he had been walking. The last time he saw someone living was days ago. There was a time when he would have found that strange, when it would have bothered him. It was very common now for most of the cities to be abandoned and anything within reach to be trashed beyond repair.

Some still tried. He didn’t bother.

There was no use in trying to fix a broken world when there would be no going back. They would never go back to how things were when he was a child. He could hardly remember what it was like now.

He still remembered the house he had lived in, but the memory was hollow. It was just a place not worth anything anymore. He remembered the faces of his family and friends, but there was no tug on his heart. They were just corpses adding to the others scattered about everywhere. There was a sport he had dedicated his whole being to, but… He didn’t understand why he had tried so hard for it anymore.

He often thought back to them, often tried to remember what it was like before. What he was like before… It was pointless, though, he knew. Just like this world would never go back to its previous state, neither would he.  
_________________________________

“It’s escalating. Rapidly.”

Ushijima felt his shoulders drop at the words, the weight of the statement beating down on him. He knew the others felt it, too. He heard curses being muttered, some people lamenting (“No… Not another one…”), some even storming off to either cry or yell their frustrations out in solitude.

Another person in the community was going insane.

It was expected. Everyone knew there was no escaping it, but some persistent glimmer of hope lingered even when they all thought they had lost it. They were still human, they were still feeling, they still latched on to it in hope of salvation.  
_________________________________

In the years during his middle school, the violence had only worsened. So much so that an epidemic had been declared months after he had been accepted into high school. Everyone was urged to go to their doctor for a checkup, huge numbers of people were sent to further testing; blood tests, head scans, some straight to experimental treatment.

Something was causing mutations in human brains. Mutations that led to excessive aggression, lunacy, or extreme self-destructive behavior in its final stages. Of all the ways the mutations manifested the worst were, by far, those who became akin to raging monsters. There was no way to treat it and no way to quarantine the people taken by it. Nor would it have helped.

The following years were filled with continuously growing chaos. Mobs of people rampaging through the cities, destroying everything in sight, killing everyone they came across before steadily turning on each other. And when there was no one left to suffer their wrath, they turned it on to themselves.  
_________________________________

They were all restless. They were the last surviving community in this city. There was no way to communicate with anyone outside, no way to check if others were still out there and if they had found a means to stop it.

Ushijima found himself pacing, his usual calmness leaving him as it always did when they were faced with another possible rager, with another possible vicitim of lethal self-destructiveness. He was iron willed, he was of a stone hard mind, but he was only human, too.

He had seen so many deaths, he had killed many to save himself, and it was always nauseating. Watching someone be beaten to death, be it with some kind of tool or with the bare hands of those whose minds were consumed by rage… It was horrifying.

He never thought that minutes could stretch on for so long like they did when he had to listen to the screams and wails of the victim while he hid, keeping his breathing slow and quiet like he was told to as his heart hammered in his chest, wanting to burst, wanting to stop dead so he would be free of the torture, so he wouldn’t have to listen to bones cracking and blood splattering.

Like he had for his mother.

And later on, being on the other side of that exchange. Having to wail on one of the insane so he himself wouldn’t be killed. Having his knuckles split open from repeatedly bashing on someone’s skull, having his hands go numb from the forceful collision of bone against bone until the person under him stopped moving.

Like he had done to his best friend so that he could protect the rest of their team.

It was… Unavoidable. No matter who he tried to save, no matter who he tried to protect, they all inevitably lost themselves. They all eventually tried to kill everyone around them.

He never let them. No matter the pain it caused him, he never let them.

Most people clung to the hope that one day it would stop, that maybe it wouldn’t get them.

Ushijima knew it would. He clung to the ugliness of it. He gripped tightly on to the feelings of horror, misery, guilt, nausea; whatever would keep him from becoming used to how brutal the world had become. As long as it bothered him, he was human. As long as it bothered him, he was sane.  
_________________________________

“Ushijima. You said to call you when it’s time.”

He lifted his head to see one of the community’s doctors looking crestfallen. Killing someone in the group always pushed everyone into the darkest state. Ushijima merely nodded and stood, following as the man led him towards the building where they kept those who deteriorated.

There had been an agonising wait of several months filled with anxieties, tensions running high, emotions overcoming several people and forcing them into breakdowns, to be sure that it was the insanity setting in. It had started off with irritability which had grown into constant arguing and had quickly become seeking out physical conflict. They had locked the person away into one of the rooms, monitoring his behavior.

He was led to the room and let in, the doctor right by his side.

There were no two ways about it. They were looking at a man who was now strapped to the bed, his jaw immobilized so he wouldn’t bite his own tongue off, jerking every which way to try and get free. His eyes were locked on to them, no evidence of thought or soul behind them.

“Are you sure about this? It has to be heavy on you after all this time,” the doctor remarked, glancing at him. For all the years they managed to keep a semblance of community here, Ushijima had volunteered as the executioner each time someone got to this state.

“I’m sure,” he confirmed, though he was uneasy. It wasn’t the usual unease that came with once again having to take a life. Something wasn’t right, but it was a thought for later.

It only clicked when everyone had gone to sleep for the night. When everyone tried to rest with the knowledge that they would be another person short in the morning. Ushijima was once again led to the room, but this time he was given a knife and left alone.

It only clicked when he approached the man before him, rabid in his desire to grab him and kill him. He braced himself over the man, knife poised over his eye.

It only clicked when the blade had sunk home and the man stopped moving, letting out one last pained groan.

He had spent sleepless nights thinking about it, remembering all the people he had lost and all the people he had hurt in order to survive. The responisibility he had taken upon himself so no one else had to suffer the guilt and misery of killing so many had been plaguing him. He spent hours pacing, exhausting himself of all energy so he wouldn’t think, crying in the abandoned hallways of the buildings by himself.

But as he yanked the knife back, watching the blood spraying him…

He felt nothing.

He felt nothing as he looked at the dead man under him.

He felt nothing as he left the room.

He felt nothing as he thought of the next life he would inevitably take.  
_________________________________

How long ago had that been? Weeks? It was probably months at this point. Not that it mattered. That group had probably dwindled in numbers since the last time he was there.

He stepped over a dead body, not sparing it a glance as he continued to look for any place that had food that hadn’t spoiled yet. That was all he did now. He walked and walked and looked for food and continued to walk. Maybe he would eventually grow sick of it. He wondered what that felt like. He couldn’t remember the last time something had annoyed him, the last time something had bothered him. When was the last time he had cared for anything?

He checked every room of every standing buidling in his search. It was no bother. It was what was needed to survive.

He pushed a door open to find a somewhat tidy room, the table covered with all sorts of medication, tools and, most importantly, food. He made his way over to it, setting his baseball bat against the table leg before pulling the duffel bag up over his head and setting it on a free spot on the table. It was all rather convenient…

As he started packing it up, a voice called from behind him.

“Hey!”

He stopped and looked over his shoulder to find a young boy who couldn’t have been older than twelve holding a knife in his shaking hands.

“You can’t take that!” The waver in his voice was obvious. He was afraid. “It’s all I have!” What was that like? Being afraid? When had he last been afraid?

He didn’t bother with a reply, merely going back to putting everything in his bag. It would be useful and anything useful was worth taking.

“If you don’t leave that now, I’ll kill you!”

He paused at this. Kill him? When he had done so much to stay alive?

He dropped everything to the table, freeing his hands to take a hold of the baseball bat. He turned to fully face the boy who shrank back, eyes growing wide with fear.

He felt no real drive behind his actions. There would be no satisfaction, no weight, no gratification.

He lifted his bat, advancing towards the boy who dropped his own weapon.

He would not allow anyone to impair his survival.


End file.
